


Dead Man's Hand

by Almost_Star_Struck



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aggressively Flirty Hanzo, Attempted Sex while Drunk, Drunkenness, Gentleman McCree, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Oral Sex, Poker as Metaphor, Relationship Discussions, Shy McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almost_Star_Struck/pseuds/Almost_Star_Struck
Summary: They've spent the last few months dancing around each other and one night after a few drinks, Hanzo decides to finally act.Too bad he's a few too many sheets to the wind.Not betaed.





	1. When the chips are down-

**Author's Note:**

> Hanzo drunkenly tries to have his way with McCree. Jesse is not cool with this and let's him down gently. 
> 
> WARNING: Hanzo is a bit of an aggressive drunk in this. He's not like super dangerous or anything but he's pushier and not too nice when it comes to personal boundaries or other people's feelings. This is not how he is sober and he's gonna feel hella guilty for being such an asshole.

Hanzo was staring at him from across the table, loosely holding his cards.

Had been for the last two hours as he occasionally added some chips to the pot and drank from his sake flask. 

Jesse returned the look with a wink, enjoying the way the other man's grip on his drink tightened until his knuckles turned white. While the game at the table had only been going deep into the evening, this dance with the heir to the Shimada-gumi had been playing out for much longer.

_"Genji tells me that you can speak Spanish."_

_"Are you going to train? Wait a moment and I shall join you."_

_"That gun you carry is quite an intriguing weapon."_

_"What do you mean Sante Fe is not a city in Texas!?"_

And then most recently. _"I do not know how to play Poker; will you teach me?"_

Hence the card game that seemed to get dragged out until late evening turned to early morning. Meanwhile in all their hours of play, Hanzo had yet to do more than fumble with his cards and stare at Jesse as if he was too petrified to make a move. 

Well, that was just plum dandy. If Hanzo needed to build up the courage, ol' Jesse would give him all the time he needed. However it was pretty clear that nothing was gonna come of him sitting around shooting the shit while playing shitty hands. "Thinkin' I'm gonna have to drop out for the night, ladies and gents," Jesse said, tossing his cards down onto the garish green tablecloth. "Some of us ain't as young as we used to be." He cracked his back and yawned, stretching out his arms behind his head.

Torbjörn snorted and adjusted the cards in his gloved fingers. "Speak for yourself, cowboy," he said, taking a long drink from his beer. Lena smiled, shuffling Jesse's discarded hand back into the deck. 

"Alright. See you in the mornin' luv," she called as he pushed his chair in. The others gave their own farewells from across the rec room save for Hana and Reinhardt who were too engrossed in their fighting game to look up. McCree nodded to Lena and gave a tilt of his chin to the archer at the back of the table.

Hanzo pursed his lips and turned away as if he had not just been caught staring. His long black bangs fell in front of his eyes like a curtain as he lifted his gourd and took another long pull.

More stubborn than a burro and shier than a jackrabbit.  

Chuckling, Jesse turned on his heel and started down the wall, spurs jingling as he shoved his hands into his pockets. It really was late though and with a mission coming up in a few days time he needed to get his sleep schedule back on track. He stopped in front of his door and flipped up the keypad, typing out his passcode as he yawned wide enough to crack his jaw.

_Damn...shoulda called it quits hours ago._

As the door slid open, he heard the distinct sound of metal feet tapping against the floor. Glancing back, Jesse caught sight of Hanzo' silhouette and smiled. "Headin' off to bed too, pardner?" He asked as Hanzo stumbled, briefly leaning against the wall before pushing off again. Hanzo grunted and clenched his fists, stalking directly toward him. McCree frowned, stepping forward with his arms out to catch him if he fell again. "You needin' any help-?" he began only for Hanzo to slam his hands on either side of the doorframe, his muscular arms bracketing the cowboy in on either side. 

"You can help me by taking _responsibility_ ," Hanzo whispered, the sake potent on his breath as he stared up at McCree, his brown eyes blown wide with obvious desire. "Or are you little more than a _tease?_ "

McCree raised an eyebrow and took a step back, giving them some more breathing room. While it was nice that the archer was finally being honest about what he wanted, this was definitely not how he expected Hanzo to finally come on to him. "Well I ain't the type to jerk your chain if that's what you're gettin' at." Hanzo shook his head and before McCree could react, he shoved the cowboy inside. Jesse fell hard on his ass as Hanzo entered, smacking the panel to shut the door behind him.

Groaning, Jesse rubbed at his lower back as the archer ripped off his obi belt. "Hanzo-"

"Enough." Hanzo rolled his shoulder out of his shirt and let the fabric fall to the floor, his muscular chest fully exposed in the dim glow of Athena's security monitor. The cowboy could do little more than gape.

_So much for bein' shier than a jackrabbit._

Jesse swallowed, looking Hanzo up and down as the archer sauntered forward, dragging his belt along the floor like a whip. "I did not come here to _talk_." He grabbed McCree's serape and with an unnecessary show of strength, dragged the cowboy back up to stand, almost falling backwards in the process. 

McCree grunted and grasped Hanzo's wrist with his mechanical arm, squeezing hard around the bone. "Darlin'...this _really_ ain't my style. You even considered-?"

Tsking, Hanzo muttered, "I have. _Many_ times." He wrapped the obi around the back of McCree's neck, yanking him down to eye-level. "I know you have as well." He smirked. Even drunker than a fish, Hanzo's grip was strong and steady, holding the cowboy in place as he pressed up onto his toes for a sloppy kiss with way too much teeth and beard burn.

Hanzo's lips were chapped and he stunk of alcohol; a reminder of why everything about this was definitely _not_ ok.

With a sharp gasp, Jesse managed to pull away, panting hard as Hanzo licked at the corners of his mouth, pale cheeks flushed pink. "Hanzo, normally I'd be on you like a fly on shit-" The archer made a disgusted face at the metaphor. "-but you're awfully drunk right now-"

"Drunk, not _stupid_ ," Hanzo growled, grabbing him by the back of his neck to keep McCree from moving away. He tried for another kiss, but McCree ducked under his arm and side-stepped the groping archer.

Hanzo bit his lip and tried to follow him, but McCree held up a hand and he stopped with a huff. Glaring at the cowboy, Hanzo snarled. "Why are you being so-" he paused, looking frustrated as he tried to recall the English term. "-difficult?!"

Sighing, Jesse murmured, "Hanzo, I trust you know what you want, but I ain't comfortable takin' you to bed when you're more than half gone." He swallowed as the archer tugged out his scarf, letting his long black... _beautifully_ stunning hair loose. For a moment, his brain damn near shut down. "God _damn_..."

Hanzo smirked, lifting his pointed chin to expose the strong column of his pale throat. "Are you saying that you do not want me, McCree?" he asked, playing with one of the longer strands of his hair. All black save for those attractive wisps of gray at the sides.

Jesse tried not to look, but he couldn't stop staring. 

Bastard knew how handsome he was. 

"I definitely ain't opposed," he murmured as the archer stepped forward, close enough for Jesse to get a good whiff of sake and the more subtle smell of his tea tree shampoo mixed with a heady masculine musk. "But I just can't in good conscience take you to bed."

Huffing, the archer tossed his silk scarf to the ground with all the fanfare of throwing out a used tissue. "Because I am drunk?" Hanzo murmured, teasing him as if he was flashing a trump card. "What if I never want you again?" He licked over his lips, drawing McCree's attention to the shape of his mouth, the way his beard was cut perfectly over his jaw. 

Oh he'd definitely regret never getting a taste of _that_ action, but it wasn't his first rodeo.

And Hanzo wasn't all that good of a bluff. Weeks of not-so subtle flirting proved otherwise.

Jesse inhaled sharply, removing his hat to press the brim flat against his chest. "It'd be a darn shame if I never got the pleasure of your company." He gave the archer a soft disarming smile even as the other man appeared to grow more confused. "So you come back sobered up and I'll show you a _real_ nice time."

Hanzo frowned, clenching his teeth as if his anger could disguise the blatant hurt in his eyes. And damn if that didn't make Jesse feel like a right bastard for putting that look on his face.. "Then you are a fool," he said, turning away from McCree. "One who does not know the _value_ of what I offer." He muttered something else in Japanese, his fists balled at his sides. In his anger, the dragons on his arm appeared to pulse and glow. 

Wincing, McCree rubbed the back of his neck and tossed his hat onto the sheets. He had to deescalate this before he ended up dragon chow. "Hey darlin', want me to walk you back to your room? Get you all settled in?" 

Hanzo shook his head, scooping his kyudo-gi off the floor and slipping it back on. He fumbled with the obi belt, leaving the fabric with a loose tie around his trim waist. "No," he said, his tone flat and dismissive as he headed to the door. He tried to hit the door panel with the side of his fist, but was a few inches off the mark. Frustrated, he tried again, only for McCree to catch his hand halfway. Hanzo pulled out of his hold roughly, almost falling forward on unsteady legs as he tried to rebalance. 

Jesse pulled back and frowned as the other man straightened up, puffing out his broad chest like a shield. "I know it'snot what you came for, sweetheart, but let me send you off with a goodnight kiss." he pleaded in a soft voice.

The very last thing he wanted was to have Hanzo walk away from this thinking that he was being outright rejected.

Hanzo huffed, his back stiff as a board as he crossed his arms over his chest and murmured to himself in Japanese. However his normal glower was somehow less threatening with his hazy eyes and drunken blush. More of a pout really. "Already having regrets?" he said with an annoyed tick of his brow.

McCree smiled weakly and shook his head. "Don't reckon I'll regret not takin' advantage of ya', pardner. I'm interested, trust me." Before Hanzo could change his mind, McCree leaned in and pecked Hanzo's cheek just above his beard, softer than a cotton pillow and sweeter than his morning cup of coffee. "Just want you to be here 100% when we get to dancin'." He knew it wouldn't be more than a band-aid over Hanzo's wounded pride, but maybe that's all that was really needed.

Hanzo snorted in disbelief, staring at McCree like he was from another world. "Was that it?" he said, touching his cheek.

Nodding, Jesse said, "Git on outta here. Make sure to drink some water before you pass out." He hit the side panel so that the door slid open with a hiss, bringing in the dim light of the hallway. Hanzo lifted his chin haughtily and stepped out in a firm march. It steadied his steps a little, but there was still a bit of an unintentional sway to his motion as he stalked down the hallway.

He didn't glance back once. The proud dragon trying to hide how hurt he really was.

McCree closed the door and pinched his brow with his mechanical hand.

Damn... _damn._  

Flopping onto the cot, Jesse stared up at the ceiling and ran his fingers back and forth across the sheets. That had taken more willpower than he right cared to admit, but still. He couldn't do that to Hanzo even if the other man hated him for it.

All he could do now was wait and see if he made the right call. 


	2. -up the ante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo sobers up and realizes exactly how much of an asshole he was. Also drunk Hanzo takes everything McCree says the wrong way.

Hanzo grumbled to himself as he stalked down the hall back towards his room. Now that he was no longer tingling with arousal, the weight of his body felt much more intense and it was harder to move.

Worse still was the tightness of his chest. The fresh wound of rejection. 

For weeks he'd been thinking about how he wanted to approach this... _thing_ with McCree. The American flirted as easily as breathing and had made no sign that he was unwelcome.

Well, until tonight. 

 _"Maaa maaa..."_ he muttered as he fumbled with his own keycode. 

" _Anija._..that's my room." 

Hanzo blinked and turned, staring at the sleek cybernetic form that was now his brother. _"No, it's mine,"_ he said in Japanese, trying the code again, only for the door to angrily beep at him. He growled and slammed his palm flat against the screen, stumbling over his swears. Behind him, Genji sighed and removed his hand, leading him down the hall. _"Genji, let go!"_ he snarled in protest. 

Genji brought him in front of the door next to the one he had been banging on and typed in the code. "Oh...it is mine," he corrected as the door slid open, revealing his spartan space. 

Sighing, his younger brother dragged him over to the bed and sat him down. "You are not going to throw up, are you?" When Hanzo didn't answer, Genji dragged a trash can next to the bed. "Sleep on your side tonight."

Hanzo groaned as he was pushed onto the sheets, his face partially mushed against the pillow. _"He hates me, Genji..."_ he whined, gripping the sheets with his fingers.

"Who hates you?" Genji asked, dragging the blanket over his shoulders. Hanzo just shook his head, eyes closed tight. Genji raised his hand and stroked it through Hanzo's hair gently. _"Brother, sleep off the sake and we can talk tomorrow."_

 _"I can't talk to him. Not after..."_   he said, shifting under the sheet. _"He's stupid for rejecting me. Or I'm stupid for even trying."_

He shook his head and Genji's hand moved from his hair down to his shoulder. _"You're not making sense, brother,"_ he said in a quiet voice. _"Who're you talking about?"_

Hanzo moaned softly and repeated, _"I **can't** talk to him."_  

Genji gave a frustrated grunt and pulled his hand away. "Anija, try to get some sleep. If you need anything, just text me." With that he stood and headed to the door. Hanzo blearily opened one eye, watching his brother leave. The door closed behind him and the room was cast in darkness save for Athena's logo screen on his desk. 

* * *

Being hungover was not an unfamiliar sensation, but it had grown much more intense as he aged.

Hanzo huffed into his pillow, his limbs splayed out against the tangled sheets as his head pounded to an uneven tempo. Water, shower, food in that exact order. He groaned and pushed himself up onto his elbows, loose hair falling over his shoulders.

Last night he had learned to play poker, lost all of the chips he had been alotted, drunk enough to sedate a horse.

Had come onto McCree.

Hanzo froze, opening his eyes to take in his surroundings. His own room, mostly barren save for his few personal items. He was still wearing his clothes from the day before. 

He hadn't even replaced his leg attachments before he passed out like a sloppy teenager. 

Sitting up, he dragged a hand down the side of his face. Water...he needed water. 

Hanzo forced himself to stand on shaky legs, grabbing his desk to steady himself as he hobbled to the bathroom. He cranked the faucet to the coldest setting and splashed his face, rubbing into the slightly wrinkled corners of his bloodshot eyes. Cupping his hands in the sink, he drank greedily, the water feeling like a balm on his dry mouth. 

He'd kissed the cowboy hadn't he? Before getting sent back to his room. He could vaguely recall the feel of scruff against his own. McCree's facial hair was more grown out, softer than his own carefully trimmed jaw. 

Turning off the sink, he stared at his haggard appearance. 38 years old and still making the mistakes of a middle schooler with their first crush. 

_Pathetic..._

Hanzo stepped into the shower, running it as cold as possible. He shivered as he washed up, running his hand over the bruises McCree had left on his wrist. Right, he had fought back. He hadn't wanted to be kissed.

No, he had kissed Hanzo hadn't he?

Sighing, Hanzo turned off the spray and stepped out, toweling himself dry. As he walked out into the main room, he glanced to his desk for his scarf, but found it to be absent from its usual place by his bedside. 

He blinked and then swore, running a hand back through his damp hair. 

He'd have to avoid the kitchen and the outdoor deck, as they were the cowboy's most frequent hangouts. If he knew the door code to the other man's room, he could feasibly steal in and find his scarf without the other man being any wiser. Then perhaps they could pretend the previous night never happened.

No, that wasn't likely. 

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when his phone began to ring. The screen read Genji's number so he thumbed the accept key and brought the device to his ear. _"Hello,"_ he said flatly.

_"You survived."_

Hanzo rolled his eyes. _"Is there a reason you're calling me?"_ he asked, laying back on the mattress, idly staring up at the ceiling. 

_"Have you eaten yet? I made natto."_

Genji _hated_ natto...and he had been unable to eat solid foods for the last decade. Still, Hanzo couldn't bring himself to refuse. Sighing he said, _"I'll be there in a minute."_

He hung up and stood to get dressed, mentally preparing himself if he should run into McCree. Logically he couldn't avoid the man forever. They were coworkers of sorts and they worked well together. It made sense to team them up when out in the field. 

Besides, the cowboy had kissed him hadn't he? Asked for it even. That had to mean something even if it was just on the cheek. 

Either that or it was all just wishful thinking on his part. 

Opening the door to his room, he paused, seeing that his scarf was pinned to the outside of his doorframe with a large novelty magnet of a mustachioed cactus wearing a sombrero. The text at the base read, "HOLA DE DORADO!" Hanzo removed the magnet and took his scarf, rubbing his thumb over the silky fabric. 

He quickly pinned his hair up and took the magnet back into his room. Paper...where was there any paper when he needed it? He fumbled through the desk drawers, biting his lip in frustration. For all the wonders of holograms and touch screen-technology, none of it mattered when it came to leaving notes. 

Finally he managed to find an old envelope, horribly crinkled and covered in dust. He wiped it off as best he could and paused. 

Now he needed to find a _pen._

* * *

Genji had already set up the tatami by the time Hanzo arrived. His room smelled faintly of warm tea and the scent alone was a comfort. Hanzo removed the outer plating of his prosthetics and set them by the door, stepping inside on his silicone based feet. Genji gave him a curt nod and gestured to the plate of natto and rice. "Rough morning?" he asked. Hanzo snorted and sat down, folding his calves under his thighs. 

"You could say that," he said, picking up the chopsticks and taking a hesitant first bite. His appetite was slow to wake, but after a time he was eagerly scraping the sides of the plate for the last few grains. "Thank you, by the way."

"Are you ready to talk?" Genji asked, straight to the point. It was almost eerily like their mother had been when they were children.

Hanzo put down the plate and lined the chopsticks against the rim. "I embarrassed myself last night," he began slowly.

Genji chuckled behind his visor. "I gathered that much." Hanzo glared, but let the expression fall just as quickly. He was too tired and ashamed to hold onto minor annoyances.

"I embarrassed myself in front of someone I admire," he clarified. "And I am afraid that they will not forgive me." 

Lifting the tea pot, Genji poured his older brother a cup and then himself. "McCree?" he asked. When Hanzo froze stiff, tea cup half raised to his lips, he added, "I have eyes, _Anija._ You prefer his company over all others." He removed his visor and took a sip of his own tea. "Should I assume you had sex?" 

Hanzo felt his face heat and he forced himself to drink. "No. He rejected me," he said in a soft voice. Genji raised an eyebrow at that and Hanzo just sighed, touching the side of his face, sweeping his bangs back behind his ear. "I do not require your pity."

"I do not pity you, Hanzo." Genji settled his teacup in his lap and said, "I am just surprised that you are taking it so _personally_ is all." 

"How can I not take it personal?" Hanzo muttered. The first time he was interested in someone since he was in his twenties and the man sends him back to his room like a misbehaving child. He pursed his lips. 

"Do you know how many times I was rejected?" Genji asked with a smile. When Hanzo shrugged, he said, "Almost every other time. It hurt at first, but I got used to it. Some people will never be interested in you no matter what, _Anija._ You move on and find someone who is interested."

Of course it was easy for Genji to say such things. He had been such a playboy in their youth that while he may have dealt with many rejections, he had at least had enough people who wanted him to make up for it.

Hanzo had found it much harder to open himself up to that sort of hurt. Even if it was purely physical.

It made his partners fewer and further between. "He did kiss me. On the cheek," he said softly, touching his face in memory, though it was blurred. He couldn't remember whether it was affectionate or condescending. 

"Have you talked to him about it?" Genji asked. Hanzo shook his head. "Hanzo, the longer you wait the worse it will get. Regardless of your romantic entanglements, you both still have to work together. The sooner you talk to him, the less awkward it will be for everyone."

"I know," Hanzo growled, downing the last of his tea. Genji made to refill it, but Hanzo placed his hand over the rim. "But I do not think I can stand to see him right now."

_See the pity in his eyes. 'Poor stupid Hanzo.'_

Genji placed the pot back onto the plate and shook his head. "Suck. It. Up," he said, his English crude. "You are a grown man, Hanzo as is he." 

Hanzo frowned and nodded, pressing his palms to his thighs. "It does not make it any easier..."

* * *

As he made the trek back to his room, Hanzo couldn't help but glance toward McCree's door. The magnet and note he had left were gone which meant that it was now all a waiting game. He furrowed his brow and headed to his own room. 

The magnet was back up on the doorframe with his original letter. In his blocky English script was written, _"Sorry about last night."_

McCree's handwriting in comparison was more of a scrawl, made barely legible by the crinkles in the paper. _"Rooftop?"_  It said, with a slightly crooked arrow pointing up to the ceiling. 

His grip on the paper tightened, staring at the brightly colored magnet against the frame. The little cactus' cartoon eyes seemed to mock him the longer he stared so he keyed in his door code and stepped inside, tossing the letter and magnet onto his desk. 

Grabbing his phone off the bed, he stepped back out, slamming the close door button before heading to the elevator. 

_Suck it up._

Hanzo carefully breathed in and out, attempting to calm his fluttering heart as the door opened and he hit the button for the rooftop. When the carriage arrived on top of the base, he stepped out, catching sight of a familiar silhouette framed by the mid-afternoon sun, serape blowing behind him gently in the breeze. For a moment, his breath caught in his throat and then McCree turned, lit cigarillo smoking faintly in hand. The cowboy smiled handsomely and fully leaned back against the railing. 

"Sobered up now, pardner?"

 

 

 


	3. -or be a gentleman and learn to fold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but I wanted to delay all my updates until Mchanzo week ended. 
> 
> Also, this turned into a four-part story...WHOOPS! Also, rating change cuz things get a bit hot and heavy XD

Hanzo was not afraid to admit that he was a prideful person. Throughout most of his life, he held his head high: proud of his clan, of his abilities and skill, of his intelligence and education.

But no one told him that the price of all that pride would come in the form of  _guilt._

Guilt when he failed to meet his family's expectations and from the crimes he had committed in their name. Then again when his hard-earned skills which he once readily touted were used to cut his brother in two.

Were used to abandon the very clan he had sworn to protect and lead.

Pride and shame: two sides of the same coin. His life was constantly flipping back and forth between them, but right now as he stared at McCree, remembering how the other man had reacted the night before, shame was winning out.

Hanzo swallowed as the cowboy sauntered toward him, tapping his cigarillo to knock the ash off the glowing end. "You wanted to talk...?" he said crossing his arms over his broad chest. He lifted his chin, straightening his spine to best meet McCree's natural height. McCree just smiled and stopped right in front of the archer, adjusting the brim of his hat with his mechanical hand. 

"Figured that's what you wanted, actually." Jesse took another puff from his cigarillo, blowing the smoke off to the side so that it was carried away with the wind. "You feelin' ok?"

Frowning, Hanzo's eyes followed the trail of smoke as it left the other man's plush lips and slowly dissipated into the air. "Well enough,” he muttered, shaking his head. He hadn’t come here for small talk and he wasn’t about to waste the gunslinger’s time with pleasantries. “McCree, I…I owe you more than just an apology. My behavior last night was inexcusable.”

The cowboy lifted his hand up to stop him and Hanzo fell silent, his lips pursed. McCree chuckled and said, “Hey darlin’, I appreciate the apology an’ all, but you were drunk. Sometimes we do stupid shit that we don’t mean to when we’re shitfaced.”

“I…” Hanzo exhaled through his teeth and shook his head. “I meant to confess to you, just…not that way.” He knew he was stumbling over his words and probably only making it all worse. Why was English so _complicated?!_

“I went about everything wrong,” he finished, his throat drier than a well-aged sake.

He felt like a teenager admitting their first crush. Or a pathetic middle-aged man who knew nothing but how to hurt and disappoint.

Did he even deserve McCree’s forgiveness?

McCree didn’t speak, merely listened and stared at Hanzo, his brown eyes gentle, but otherwise unreadable. He tapped more ash off the end and hummed, shifting his weight to the opposite leg as he let his free hand tuck into the thick leather belt around his chaps. “Yeah, last night didn’t really go about like I expected neither.” He looked to the ground and added, “You send a lot of mixed signals. I never know whether or not I gotta move forward or step back with you. And the other night you just flipped everything on its head till I lost sight of which way was up.”

Hanzo grimaced, loosening his arms until they hung limp at his sides. “I have been meaning to talk to you about this for some time. I just-it _never_ seemed like a good time,” he finished lamely, bowing his head.

McCree chuckled and dropped his cigarillo, only half smoked, to the floor and ground it underneath his boot.

“I get that, darlin’.” He touched Hanzo’s exposed shoulder, sending a shock of warmth through the archer’s chest. “But if you drag your feet then nothin’s ever gonna happen. Every mission might be our last so the way I see it, there ain’t no point in not goin’ for what you want.” He stroked his thumb over the thick muscle and added, “I actually was pretty happy that you jumped me last night.” He paused. “I just wished you were a bit more sober.”

Hanzo blinked and looked up, seeing Jesse was leaning in, a gentle smile crossing his scruffy features. “So then, you-“ Hanzo began only for McCree to pull him close, his hand moving down from Hanzo’s shoulder to his waist. Hanzo swallowed, their chests touching as McCree grinned. “- _want_ this?”

“Hell yeah, darlin’.” the cowboy drawled. “If you’re still interested of course.” He winked and Hanzo felt the heat begin to coil low and heavy in his belly.

How?

Or maybe the right question was why? Why did McCree forgive so easily? Why was he even still interested after last night?

No, McCree wasn’t a _child_. He was a grown man too, with his own wants and desires. If he wanted Hanzo of his own free-will, then Hanzo had to trust that decision.

Regardless of everything, McCree was forgiving him.

Regardless of everything, McCree _wanted_ him.

Rather than nod or give his verbal consent, the archer grabbed both sides of McCree’s face and yanked him into a kiss.

McCree let out a not-quite squeak at that but quickly recovered, closing his eyes and squeezing Hanzo’s sides. Hanzo grunted, licking into the cowboy’s mouth, tasting the cloves and smoke of his cigarillo as Jesse willingly opened up for him.

“Mmmm…darlin, you’re somethin’ else,” McCree murmured before diving back in, his fingers trailing up and down Hanzo’s spine, nibbling the archer’s bottom lip.

Hanzo dug his fingers into the other man’s thick hair, yanking back to part them. McCree groaned, staring at Hanzo with swollen lips and glassy eyes.

It was a _very_ good look on the gunslinger.

“I am much more than that,” Hanzo said with a low chuckle.

Jesse swallowed thickly and said, “You wanna maybe give last night a second go?” he trailed off, gesturing toward the elevator with a pointed cough.

Feeling as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, Hanzo nodded, leaning in to steal another (albeit brief) kiss. “Somewhere less public would be preferred.” It was unlikely that anyone would decide to take a rooftop stroll mid-afternoon, but he wasn’t keen on taking any chances.

The cowboy smiled and separated from Hanzo, only to take him by the wrist and drag him to the elevator, thumbing the button for the door. They stole away into the carriage and Hanzo shoved the taller man against the opposite wall. “I have wanted to do that for a _very_ long time,” he whispered into McCree’s ear as the elevator dropped down through the base.

“Well, don’t tease me, darlin’,” McCree said as the door opened, allowing Hanzo to drag him back out by the edge of his serape and towards the hallway.

“ _You_ have been the tease,” Hanzo accused, moving to his room, fumbling with the keypad in his excitement. He swore in Japanese and tried again, the door sliding open. “Boots off!” he ordered as he stepped inside, quickly tearing off the outer plates of his legs.

Jesse groaned.

“Hope you don’t mind waitin’ then,” he said, sitting down on the floor and beginning to work his boots off. Hanzo turned and blinked, watching the process with a frustrated growl. Jesse glanced up with a sheepish grin, “This stuff ain’t exactly easy to get in and outta quickly.”

Hanzo gave him an annoyed tsk and sat down on his cot, ripping off his obi and tossing it aside. His gi easily fell open and he dropped it to the floor as well. So simple compared to the stupid buckles and ties of the cowboy get-up that McCree insisted on touting around.

By the time Jesse was done with his second boot, Hanzo was already down to his boxers. The cowboy glanced up from his work and whistled at the sight. “Damn, Hanzo…” he said, stacking his shoes by the door as he stood, pulling off his hat the serape first and hanging it over the desk chair. He replaced his hat back over his head and said, “You know, it took a lotta willpower to turn you down last night. Especially when you did that thing with your hair.”

Rolling his eyes, Hanzo reached back, pulling his scarf loose so that his hair spilled down his shoulders. “You mean this?” he asked, letting the fabric drop onto the pile of discarded clothes. He saw McCree visibly swallow as he unbuttoned his flannel, exposing the expanse of his hairy chest.

“Oh yeah… _fuck_.” McCree’s hands paused and he walked over to the bed, gently touching over the loose strands. “You’ve got the prettiest hair I’ve ever seen,” he said, cupping along Hanzo’s bearded jawline.

Hanzo pulled down McCree’s hand and then went to work opening the shirt, untucking the fabric from the tight fit of the cowboy’s jeans. “Stop getting distracted,” Hanzo muttered as he pushed the sleeves down McCree’s arms, the fabric getting caught on the skull of his mechanical arm. Jesse chuckled and slid out of his shirt before Hanzo could tear a hole in the soft fabric.

“There ain’t no rush. I don’t plan on goin’ anywhere else today.” Jesse thumbed over his belt and bit his lip, tipping the cowboy hat back with his opposite hand.

Hanzo purred as he stared over McCree’s broad hairy chest, gaze trailing down to the belly rounded and soft around the cradle of his hips. The archer growled leaned in, pulling at the belt and undoing the clasp to yank the leather through the loops. “Whoa, pardner!” Jesse said, steadying himself as Hanzo tossed the belt aside and unzipped his jeans. “Let me get the chaps off first. Might make this a bit easier.”

Hanzo gave an exasperated sigh. “Why are your clothes so complicated!?” he said, flopping back onto the cot. McCree chuckled and undid the chaps, sliding them down with his jeans and stepping out of the pants. It left him in nothing more than a set of red briefs, matching knee-high socks with a hole in the left big toe, and his ever present Stetson.

“It’s part of my aesthetic, darlin’.” McCree knelt on the bed and crawled above Hanzo, the hat shadowing them both from the harsh overhead lights. Hanzo just snorted and touched the brim, lifting it up to get a better look at McCree’s handsome face.

There was a lot to admire about McCree physically. The smooth timber of his voice that always sounded so melodic, the soft-tufts of his beard, the barrel chest that shook when Jesse laughed. “Are you finally finished?” he asked, laying his head back against the pillow.

McCree licked his lips, “Hell no. I’m just getting’ started.” He ran his hand through Hanzo’s hair, rubbing his thumb over the graying strands near his ears.

“Do you plan on wearing this the entire time?” he asked, indicating the hat. McCree smiled and licked his lips, sensually tracing the line of his mouth. Before he could answer, Hanzo purred and dragged the cowboy back down for a kiss, sealing their mouths together.

Aesthetic indeed.


	4. Going All-In to a Bad Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree and Hanzo finally get down and dirty.
> 
> But then feelings become a thing.

McCree's initial thoughts on Hanzo's flirting were: _More stubborn than a burro and shier than a jackrabbit._

After spending the last twenty minutes with Hanzo wrist-deep in his boxers, he was pretty sure that needed to be amended to: More focused than a viper and greedier than a starving coyote.

No, _coyote_ wasn't the right word. Hanzo was too demanding to be a scavanger.

Jesse panted, sweat beading over his brow as Hanzo flicked his wrist, the muscles of his arm tensing and releasing with the motion. The dragons lying dormant in his skin danced to the rhythm. 

 _Greedy like a dragon_. 

"McCree," Hanzo purred, staring up at Jesse as he rolled his powerful hips up, his own arousal turgid and heavy underneath Jesse’s thigh. “Am I not enough to hold your attention, cowboy?”

McCree chuckled, pressing both hands to Hanzo’s shoulders, thumbs swiping over the dip between muscle and bone. “You hold my attention plenty, darlin’.” He licked his lips and breathed out a heavy sigh. “Just still a bit star-struck if you catch my drift.”

Lifting his metal arm, he trailed his fingers through Hanzo’s hair. He couldn’t feel how soft and smooth the strands were, but the way it slid through his hands like silk gave him a good impression. He met Hanzo’s gaze and gave a low whistle of satisfaction. Hanzo’s cheeks colored pink, but the blush did nothing to hamper the smugness of his grin.

“As am I,” Hanzo murmured. “I had thought for sure that I had…ruined my chances last night.” He leaned up and McCree met him halfway, their tongues tangling messily.

 _Fuck,_ Hanzo felt good and solid beneath him; warm and heaving with each panting breath. McCree swept his hands back down the archer’s chest, giving his nipples a gentle twist as he made his way down Hanzo’s muscular thighs. He pulled Hanzo’s arm out from under his boxers, those bow-calloused fingers now sticky with pre-cum. “Gonna let me have a little fun under here?” Jesse asked, plucking at the elastic band of Hanzo’s underwear.

Hanzo snorted and wiped his hand off on the wrinkled sheet. Without a word, he gestured to the bulge expectantly and pushed up onto his elbows, inky hair trailing down his sweaty chest.

Jesse did not need to be told twice. Clicking his tongue, he pulled the elastic until it slid down Hanzo’s legs, trapping his metal knees. “Shit, darlin’.”

Sinking back down, McCree wrapped his fingers around the thick pulsing shaft. It jumped in his hand and he felt more than heard Hanzo’s resulting growl.

 “You know what I like about you?” McCree teased as he began to slowly stroke, squeezing a bit at the tapered head. Hanzo grunted, his eyes falling closed as he thrust into Jesse’s hand.

“What?” Hanzo asked, his voice thick with lust as McCree peeled back the foreskin to reveal the shiny slit. Jesse chuckled and knelt over Hanzo’s hips, his opposite hand rubbing up and down the archer’s trim stomach.

Winking, McCree said, “I like that you’re a man who knows what he wants in life.” Now just inches away from his dripping prize, he thumbed under the glans and added, “Just need to learn to get better 'bout askin’ for it.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes, his knees coming up to bracket the cowboy’s shoulders. “Your mouth,” he ordered, nodding to his cock, flushed peach under a dark thatch of hair. Even laying on his back with his legs spread, Hanzo looked every bit the haughty prince he had been raised to be.

And boy…if that wasn’t the biggest goddamn turn on.

“ _Yessir!_ ” Jesse said, sticking out his tongue and running it up from base to tip, waggling around the exposed head for show. Hanzo exhaled sharply, turning his head to one side as Jesse took the head into his mouth and began to suck, putting pressure against the sensitive glans.

The gunslinger didn’t give him any time to recover, opening his throat as he went to the hilt. His eyes watered slightly and he resisted the urge to cough as he held there for a few seconds, feeling Hanzo shudder beneath him, one hand raising to fist in McCree’s shaggy locks.

Hanzo fought to remain silent, but eventually a few moans slipped past his kiss-swollen lips. His thighs shook every time McCree deep-throated him, but they never once let up on their vice-like grip, keeping the cowboy locked in place. “More damnit!” Hanzo grunted, tugging on Jesse’s hair as he pulled back, circling the head with just the tip of his tongue.

Chuckling, Jesse licked his lips and replaced his mouth with his hand again, running his thumb through a tacky line of pre and bringing it up to Hanzo’s lips. “Didn’t hear a please in there, darlin’.”

The sheer strength of Hanzo’s glare was almost enough to make him back off, but then the archer took his hand by the wrist and sucked his cum-covered fingers in-between his lips. Jesse swallowed hard, feeling Hanzo’s tongue trace the pad of his thumb before those sharp teeth nipped the skin.

“ _Please_ ,” Hanzo purred, his voice low and pure sex as he stared up at the gob-smacked cowboy.

Holy hell…how on earth could any red-blooded man say no to _that?_

* * *

Jesse woke to the smell of fresh coffee.

He groaned and twisted around in the sheets, his eyes squinting as he took in the sight. Hanzo was sitting at his desk, reading something on his phone as he sipped from one of the chipped kitchen mugs. He was dressed casually in sweatpants and an open bathrobe with his hair down and still damp from a recent shower.

Hanzo glanced up to meet McCree’s tired gaze and smiled over the rim, setting his drink down. “Do not fret. I brought you one as well.” He took a second cup off the desk and stood, walking over to the bed.

“Damn…what’d I do to get bedside service, darlin’?” McCree yawned as Hanzo smoothed his hand through his shaggy bed-ragged hair and kissed his forehead.

“You sucked my dick,” Hanzo reminded with a grin as he sat back down, one leg crossed over the other. McCree shrugged and took a drink, relishing the smooth flavor of a good black. “I would have brought back food, but I did not know when you would wake.”

McCree smiled. Now that was real damn sweet. “And you didn’t mind walkin’ ‘round the base like that?” he asked, gesturing to Hanzo’s shirtless chest that was covered in various hickies from the night before. Not that Jesse had made it out of bed unscathed by the dragon’s claws.

“They will see when we are training. I must keep my arm free to shoot,” Hanzo said with a shameless snort. He took a drink, lazily leaning back in his chair.

Sitting up in bed, Jesse leaned back against the wall and held the coffee in his lap. “So…I take it that you ain’t just kickin’ me out?”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow and then shook his head, his loose hair falling artfully over one broad shoulder. “As I said, I was hoping to have breakfast.” He took another sip and gave a satisfied hum. “If you have the appetite.”

“I could eat,” Jesse said, cracking his neck and downing the entire cup in one large gulp. He smacked his lips and slid out from under the sheets, naked as the day he was born. Hanzo’s dark eyes swept appreciatively over his form before flickering back up to his face. “See somethin’ you like, parder?” Jesse teased as he bent over to grab his boxers, stepping into the leg holes and hiking them up his thighs.

Shrugging, Hanzo just put down his coffee and stood. “Perhaps,” he teased in a sly tone, sidling up to McCree and letting both hands rest on the cowboy’s wide hips.

McCree couldn’t resist. He pulled Hanzo in for a kiss, threading his fingers through the other man’s hair. Hanzo pressed up on his metal toes, muscular arms encircling his waist without hesitation.

Hanzo felt good against him, smelling of musk and coffee. It would be all too easy to lead the other man right back into bed without another word, but now that he was awake, his stomach was determined to not be ignored any longer. McCree grinned into the kiss and pulled back just a bit, pressing one last little chaste peck to the shorter man’s pert mouth. “What’s this I hear ‘bout a handsome fella makin’ me breakfast?”

That earned him a snort and a gentle shove from Hanzo. “Now that you are awake, you will be helping me,” he said in a tone that dismissed all argument. McCree just nodded and pulled on his jeans, leaving his feet and chest bare as his shoes and serape weren’t worth the trouble.

Now Jesse McCree was no stranger to casual sex or one-night stands. He’d been both kicked out of bed the next day and invited for round two in the morning, but making breakfast was another thing entirely. As he watched Hanzo brew another pot of coffee and fight with the broken fridge handle, he couldn’t help but feel some real fondness creeping in. Not that he'd ever disliked Hanzo's company, but this...this was _real_ nice.

He whistled as he cracked some eggs into an oiled pan, letting them sizzle away on the stove. “Got a question for you if you don’t mind my askin’,” he said as Hanzo sliced some bread for toast. The archer glanced up with an expectant look and McCree cleared his throat, feeling mighty sheepish with the extra attention. “Well, now that we’ve had… _relations_ -“ Hanzo chuckled at his wording, “-where do you see us headin’ pardner?”

The question seemed to confuse Hanzo who put down the bread knife and leaned against the kitchen island. “If I have given you any indication that I did not enjoy last night-” he paused, staring at Jesse for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. “Ah, I _see_ …” he trailed off, averting his gaze.

McCree rubbed the back of his neck, turning his attention back to the eggs. That was definitely not the kinda response he had been looking for. “Shit, I don’t mean to make this awkward, darlin’. Just wanna know if we just go back to bein’ friends is all after this or if you were…” he shrugged, “Y'know, interested in continuing?”

For a moment, all McCree got was silence behind him. Instead of filling the air with his babbling, he focused on the pan in front of him, the sizzle and pop of the oil now overly loud in the quiet kitchen.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have pushed. Hanzo just wanted a fuck-buddy and now he’d gone and made it something serious.

Should’ve just kept his big mouth _shut._

Finally he heard the click of Hanzo’s metal feet across the tile, slowly rounding the island. Jesse’s grip on the skillet tightened as he felt the other man stop right behind him, one hand resting on his left shoulder. “Were you not the one who lectured me on asking for the things that I wanted?” Hanzo asked, standing on his toes so that his beard tickled the shell of the cowboy’s ear.

McCree flicked off the burners and turned to face the other man. Hanzo smiled and tipped the brim of Jesse’s hat up to get a better look at his face. Under the other man's scrutiny, McCee swallowed, his heart leaping into his throat as he stared. And damn if the archer’s brown eyes weren't so damn soft and warmer than the coffee that sat in his belly.

Licking his lips, Jesse murmured, “Yeah, reckon I did…and I’m thinkin’ I’m too old to be playin’ gay chicken with anyone.”

Hanzo laughed heartily and squeezed his shoulder. “We are of one mind then,” he said, leaning up to kiss the other man’s scruffy cheek. Jesse felt his mouth run dry as the archer stepped back and went back to making toast as if they hadn’t just agreed they were officially a… _thing_.

Clearing his throat, Jesse plated the eggs and poured them both some more coffee.

The silence was now awkward, but no longer tense and it was easier to distract himself with the silverware and coffee cups as his mind buzzed like a kicked hive. The toaster beeped and Hanzo added the bread to their plates before taking them both to the table, leaving McCree with their drinks. "Are you ok?" Hanzo asked as they sat down, his brow knitted with concern. "You are being unusually quiet."

McCree shook his head, letting out a low exhale to try and steady him. "I'm fine, darlin...you just threw me for a bit of a loop right there is all." He sat down and scooted their chairs closer together, wanting nothing more than to wipe the worry from Hanzo's handsome face. "But I suppose you've been doin' that since the day I met you."

He smiled and passed the archer his coffee, their fingers brushing through the exchange. “For example, I didn’t take you for the type to drink coffee. Thought you were more a tea guy," he said, watching as Hanzo took a long pull from the chipped mug.

Hanzo raised one eyebrow and then wiped his mouth, pulling at the edges of his facial hair in thought. Giving Jesse a playful smile, he said, “You are wrong still. I enjoy both.”

What little tension remained dissipated and Jesse's shoulders relaxed with an amused huff. McCree leaned back in his chair allowing his mechanical arm to snake its way around the back of Hanzo’s shoulders, resting against the dragon tattoo and the red marks he’d sucked into the skin underneath. 

“Well damn, you got me there, darlin," he said, raising the mug to his lips. "I fold."

And damn him if Hanzo's responding belly laugh wasn't the best damn thing he'd heard in months. 


End file.
